


Fever Dreams

by kaientai



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, I perosnally vouch for him, Komori is a cockblock, Making Out, Sakusa is capable of feeling emotions i promis, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 18:46:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18856933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaientai/pseuds/kaientai
Summary: A visit to your sick boyfriend ends up more heated than intended.





	Fever Dreams

“Could you please not sit on my bed in your outside clothes?”

The edge to Sakusa’s muffled words unknowingly triggers the reflex to roll your eyes at him. “For the record, you’re more disgusting than I am at the moment, Kiyoomi.”

He grunts, narrowing his eyes into a glare as he shifts under the covers. A sigh escapes your lips when your gaze drifts onto the sheets of paracetamol on his nightstand. God forbid the day Sakusa Kiyoomi catches the flu. Yet here he is, confined in the solitude of his room as he paves his way on the road to recovery.

Komori made it a point that Sakusa wasn’t allowed to step inside the common room at the risk of spreading his affliction to his other housemates. But something tells you that it was the libero’s sly attempt at payback because everyone knows that Itachiyama’s resident germaphobe is brutal when he’s in the vicinity of a sick person, not letting them five meters near him at all times. How the tables have turned.

Your eyes then saunter back to the poor creature in front of you. The mask he donned limits your glimpse at his face, but you can tell from the flushed color of his skin that he certainly isn’t at top notch condition. Sakusa is pale, but it turns out that there’s still room for desaturation when he’s running a fever.

“Is Komori at practice?” he asks in a throaty voice, hauling himself into a sitting position with his elbows.

“Probably,” you offer, pulling out your phone from your pocket with the intention of leaving Komori a text message. “No one was lounging in the common room when I got here.”

Sakusa’s eyes meet yours and nods. “Why are you here?”

You shoot him a bizarre look, crossing your arms over your chest as your bottom lip swells into a pout. “Am I not allowed to visit my boyfriend when he’s sick?”

His face mask shifts, giving you the idea that he’s wrinkling his nose under its guise. “I still believe you’re ensnared by today’s standards for a relationship.”

“What do you mean?”

Sakusa spares you a pointed stare. “You told me last week that you have other matters to attend to today. Did you really cancel your plans just to see me in this pitiful state?”

Had he uttered those words to anyone else, they would take offense. But you’ve been around him long enough to understand that he truly means no harm when he questions other people’s intentions for their kind gestures. Your lips tug into a sly smile as you quickly typed in a message to Komori, informing him that you dropped by their dorm to give the quarantine patient a visit.

You turn to Sakusa once the message delivers. “You know how other people become concerned when a person close to them gets sick?”

His face contorts, furrowing his brows. “What about it?”

“Well, just imagine the worry I felt when I found out that the person I know that’s least prone to any kind of illness winds up under house arrest because of a flu.” Your hand inched closer to his on the smooth covers. When your fingers touched, a familiar warmth spread across your chest when Sakusa didn’t jerk away from the contact.

The tension on his face relaxes at your sentiment. He heaves a sigh, carding his other hand through the inky tufts of his hair. Sakusa then proceeds to mumble something incomprehensible under his breath.

“What was that?” you urge, scooting a little closer to him.

“The rain,” he articulates gruffly. “I jogged in the rain yesterday.”

You blink, but your surprise lasts for a second when it’s overtaken by a fit of giggles spilling from your lips. Sakusa steels his gaze at your reaction, but you don’t think much of it.

“That’s all right, Kiyoomi,” you coo. “A person’s immune system isn’t perfect no matter how much you avert yourself from bacteria.”

His glare doesn’t ease up, frigid hostility outlining his features. Sakusa hates being belittled in any way even if it was meant as a jest. But you’ve mapped your way around his quirks and habits a long time ago. You knew the protocol when his annoyance is beginning to sizzle.

You kick off your sneakers before climbing under the covers with him. The sudden invasion of his space chinks the armor of his belligerence, making him drop the hard-eyed stare he’s been holding for a while now.

Your arms weaseled themselves around Sakusa’s broad shoulders, holding his feverish body closer to you. He grunts once but doesn’t make any moves that suggested he wasn’t pleased with your forwardness. If anything, he seems to be leaning into your touch.

“If you keep glaring at me, you’re going to get wrinkles when you get old, Kiyoomi,” you chide, nuzzling yourself further into his chest. As expected from the clean freak, he faintly smells like a laundromat. But his own distinctive scent mingles with the fabric softener, diffusing an aroma unique only to Sakusa himself.

This time he doesn’t make any noise in retaliation. Instead, Sakusa shifts to his side to face you. Even through the several layers of clothes in between, you can feel the taut muscles shifting under his sleeve as he settles his arm around your waist. The intensity of his gaze makes you squeak and you’re forced to put a few more inches between the two of you. However, your sudden timidness doesn’t escape his notice.

“Do you not like it?” He arches an eyebrow.

“‘Course I do, stupid Kiyoomi,” you grumble, hiding your reddening face in his chest. “I’m just not used to it when you cuddle me back so soon.”

His dark eyes soften at your proclamation. He clears his throat, resting his chin on the crook of your neck. The fabric of his face mask brushes against your skin and you’re hyper aware of the steady breaths filtering through it.

“Komori once told me I could be a downer at times,” he admits.

You hum as you reach a hand out to drag the mask beneath his chin, exposing his chiseled face to the cool air of his bedroom. Something akin to distress flashes across his eyes for a split second but you have the mind to ease him with a soft peck on the corner of his mouth.

“You think I’m still bothered by your perpetual hostility, Kiyoomi?” You giggle.

“Perpetual?” he echoes, craning his head to the side.

“Everyone calls you a genius, but you’re totally oblivious off the court.” You sigh.

“I am not very sure I like the sound of that, (Name).”

His words are met with a playful smack to his chest. As you drink in the sight of the boy before you, you wonder why everyone thinks of Itachiyama’s ace as an indecipherable force of nature. It’s probably because most only saw him reaping victory after victory in each volleyball game the team competed in. The way he carries himself with unrivaled gallance may have contributed to his image significantly as well. But at the end of the day, Sakusa is still human. He’s capable of falling ill like this; capable of being spread vulnerable. He even laughs at the occasional joke from Komori shared over lunch sometimes. Sakusa is no god, but not a lot of people are given chances to get to know him in a different light, and frankly, he doesn’t want to be thought of as anything less either.

You’re simply one of the lucky ones who get to witness him without his walls up and barbed.

As he leans in to ghost the shape of his lips onto your own, you can’t help but grin at the way his eyes dip half closed at the sight of you.

“I don’t remember you being this impatient, Kiyoomi,” you tease, trailing a finger across the pair of beauty marks dotting his forehead. It’s only when you’re this close to Sakusa that you can fully observe him eyeing you with subtle desire through thick lashes that would make any woman envious.

“Blame it on the fever.” The sultry purr that underscores his words spell out a challenge, and you want nothing more than to take it.

_Note to self, make Kiyoomi run in the rain more often. Fevers bring down his inhibitions._

The warmth of his lips slants over yours without a moment’s hesitation. Your fingers immediately entangle themselves in his mess of curls, tugging lightly to encourage more ferocity. A groan rumbles somewhere low in his chest as he yanks at your waist, not allowing an inch of you to remain out of his grasp. You sigh against his mouth and Sakusa takes advantage of the opportunity to slither his tongue inside. His appendage swirls with your own with a sloppiness that feels foreign to you. But his eagerness only serves as a catalyst to the growing heat in the pit of your stomach.

One of your legs hooks itself around his hip, pressing your bodies flush against each other. His skin is hot to the touch and you’re slowly becoming engulfed in the flames of his unspoken desire. But Sakusa doesn’t have to utter a sound to let you know just how deep his hunger plunged. The evidence is in plain sight—his impending arousal springing forth from his sweatpants.

Momentarily, you break away from the union of your lips, to which he responds with an aggravated click of his tongue. Before he can resume his assault, you climb over his body, accommodating his hips on either side of your thighs. From this view, you can clearly see that the short exchange dyed his previously flushed face a few shades redder. Wild locks of his obsidian hair spill across his pillow in loose ringlets. Sakusa’s respiration comes in quick, uneven breaths as his fingers dig into your hips at his waning patience.

“I think…” You tilt your head downward, eyes penetrating through him. “I’m starting to like you better when you’re sick.”

Sakusa simpers for a moment, composing himself so that his back is pressed against the headboard. The look in his eyes beckons you closer and when you comply to his wishes, one of his hands finds purchase tangled in your hair, while the other holds your hips in place. You aren’t able to stifle the moan that resonates in your chest when he begins sucking greedily across the column of your neck, fisting your hair to grant him ample access to the tenderness of your skin.

He pulls away for a fraction of a second to completely remove the face mask, discarding it in a crumpled heap on the floor.

“Kiyoomi,” you mewl when he bites down particularly hard on a sweet spot, igniting your desire for more friction between your legs.

A soft growl escapes him before he finally captures your lips once more, trapping the lower line of your mouth between the edges of his teeth. He surrenders his hold on your hair and teases the fabric on the hem of your shirt, fingertips grazing the skin of your hips.

“May I?” Sakusa’s voice is raspy and very much unlike him, but his plea is met with your urgency to simply feel him without any barriers of clothing separating you from each other’s need.

He drags the material of your clothes over your head, tossing it somewhere behind you on the bed. Sakusa’s lips curve into a lazy smirk, one finger hooking beneath the strap of your bra to bring it down from your shoulders. He mirrors the action on your other shoulder, but his attempt to completely liberate you from the confines of the cotton material is intercepted by your hands prodding underneath his own shirt.

“I want to feel you,” you plead, desperate.

His tongue swipes across his bottom lip before hastily ridding himself of his own clothing. Your lips part in a breathless gasp at the sight of him bare. Volleyball truly does wonders to a high school boy’s body, and that’s evident in the prominent lines and contours that mar Sakusa’s chest and abdomen. Your eyes lock with his in a heated gaze, and you can see a sheen of sweat lining his forehead.

You chuckle, leaning closer to his ear. “I was told that the best way to cure a fever is to sweat it out.”

“That’s a complete lie and you know it, (Name).”

When the sound of Komori’s voice sings in your ears, you violently jolt away from Sakusa, clamping your arms over your chest at a pathetic attempt to shield the last shred of dignity you have on you.

The libero chuckles as Sakusa glares at his intrusion, draping his blankets over your half naked form. “Komori, I thought we made it a point to knock if we have business with each other.”

“I did. You’re just too caught up in the throes of passion to hear, I guess. Plus, you didn’t put a sock on the doorknob.”

“A sock on the…?” you trailed off, suddenly recalling their house rule of stuffing a single sock on the outside doorknob to let all the house’s residents know that the denizens residing in a room aren’t to be disturbed. You’ve always remembered that one precaution whenever you came over to pay Sakusa a visit while feeling a little frisky. But today, you had no intention of jumping your boyfriend since he’s sick. All the actions leading up to this moment were driven by the mad temptation that permeated the air, and God—

“I’m going to give you five seconds to get out of here, Komori,” Sakusa speaks flatly, the threat in his words as clear as day.

But like you, Komori isn’t the least bit fazed by the ace’s ill-disposed words. “No can do, Sakusa. The coach wants a word with you.”

“I’m  _sick_.”

“Not sick enough to want to bone (Name), though.” Komori shrugs. “I think you can haul yourself to the gym, given that she gave you the ample energy boost.”

The scowl Sakusa gives him provides you a sense of comic relief. Just a few minutes ago, you were about to dive into your own pooling desire, but now your plans have been abruptly derailed.

“Go.” You pat him on the shoulder, tossing him the shirt he discarded earlier. “I’ll wait.”

He narrows his eyes at you. Then at Komori. But he ultimately resigns himself to his responsibilities with a defeated sigh. Sakusa climbs out of his bed, putting his shirt on as he glares at his teammate.

“I still have to grab something from my room,” Komori informs. “Tell me when you’re done kissing her goodbye, Sakusa~”

When the door closes behind him, Sakusa pulls you to your feet. Confused, you let him do as he pleases. But when he leans down to your ear, the heat of his breath sends a shudder rocketing across your spine.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

**Author's Note:**

> I......have no words. Everyone evacuate this man is the only person i’ll write for in the next few months ! I am a hoe for mister kiyoomi sakusa and I would have turned this into a full blown smut fic, but what's life without a few disappointments? 
> 
> This is also posted on my [nsfw sideblog](http://kinkyuus.tumblr.com). I just started it up, and i'd appreciate it if you gave it a follow! My regular writing blog can be found [here](http://turooketsurou.tumblr.com) though. 
> 
> Thank you for reading uwu


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